


All This Shit Is Weird

by pikestaff (pikaslew)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Crack, DA Weird Shit Chat, Discord Chat - Freeform, Don't Read This, Explicit Language, Gen, Gender-Neutral Hawke, I'm Sorry, Implied Fenders, In-Jokes, Mentions of Weird Kinks, Not even a little bit serious, Shenanigans, Weird universe interaction, fandom crack, implied Handers - Freeform, karl thekla has a monster dong, objectify the mage, self-indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9769139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikaslew/pseuds/pikestaff
Summary: Anders discovers a magical book filled with #magethirst and various other discussions about #objectifying the mage.  DA Weird Shit™ Chat on Discord, this is for you.





	

Anders first found the book deep in the recesses of the Circle library, hidden among several other books that were “off limits” to apprentices and even to normal mages. Not that that would keep Anders out. No one else was around, so why _couldn’t_ he flip through those mysterious forbidden books and see what was so scary about them?

As it turned out, most of these books appeared to be terribly uninteresting to the young mage, but then there was one that looked intriguing. Particularly as the title of this book was, quite simply, “Weird Shit.”

What… what could a book called “Weird Shit” be about? Was it some sort of novel? Did it contain information on illicit spells?

Anders cast a few nervous glances around and finally, confident that no one was around, took the book from the shelf.

Slipped inside the front of the book was a bit of faded parchment that some enchanter had taken notes on:

> “This strange book was given to us by a man who says his son bought it at a market. According to the merchant who sold it, the writing in the book has the ability to change at will and predict the future, but only when held by certain people. The man saw nothing out of the ordinary but was rightfully concerned and gave it to us. So far we have found nothing unusual about the book and there is very little writing inside. Notably, the book contains the delightful phrase ‘fuck the Chantry’. (To note, there is a strange letter in front of this sentence which looks like this: #) As such we believe this may all be an elaborate prank by some rambunctious youths but we nevertheless suggest holding onto the book for now for safekeeping and further study. Senior Enchanter Halburn, 7:84 Storm.”

Well. Prank book or not, Anders was thoroughly tickled by the “fuck the Chantry” bit, and decided to peek inside to see if it contained any other gems.

That was when the letters in the book started rearranging before his eyes.

“Andraste’s fucking knickers!” Anders jumped and slammed the book shut, nearly dropping it in the process. He took a breath. Right, the book was supposed to be weird. It was called Weird Shit, after all, and there was a legend behind it. That legend must have come from _somewhere_.

Slowly, he opened the book again.

Sure enough, the letters inside were arranging themselves into knew sentences. Many of these blurred together and were unreadable. Most of them did so, in fact. But he spotted his name, which he found very peculiar, and then he spotted one phrase that he was very interested in: _Karl Thekla has a monster dong._

Anders blinked. Really? That hot mage who was a few years older than him and who he’d been crushing on for a while? He had a monster dong? Anders blushed a little.

Then he realized he was taking the word of a book, and felt silly.

But then again, it _was_ a magic book, he reminded himself.

He looked around again to make sure the coast was clear before tucking the book under his arm and leaving the library.

 

Anders didn’t do much with the book for the next few days, other than make sure it was very carefully hidden away in his trunk under his bed. Every so often he would look into it. Most of the letters within were still blurred. He did make out his and Karl’s names, however, and he couldn’t stop thinking about _Karl Thekla has a monster dong_ , and the book’s accompanying information that _Karl Thekla was shredded_ , and that thought may have been the impetus for him cornering Karl a dark room a few days later and kissing him.

…and a few days after that he learned that Karl Thekla did, in fact, have a monster dong. He was also, indeed, shredded.

Anders forgot all about the book for a little while after that, primarily because he was focused on Karl (and Karl’s monster dong). But one day Karl was indisposed, and Anders was bored, and he opened the book again. This time he flipped forward a ways, and promptly stumbled upon a very detailed story of himself fucking a statue of Andraste.

Anders was bright red, now, but he kept reading. Oh, how the book lovingly described every detail! They even got the freckles on his hand right. What in the Maker’s name was this? How did the book know all about him? _Why was he fucking a statue?_

It was all strangely arousing, though, he had to admit.

He flipped the page. There, in plain text, was another erotic story of him fucking a tentacle plant. And then on the next page, he was fucking a demon.

The stories kept going, and some involved people and places whose names were blurred and unreadable. But the stories themselves were fascinating, and Anders found himself _liking_ them, and then— well. At least he could now… amuse himself when Karl was busy.

 

Unfortunately, the bliss was not to last. Karl was transferred to Kirkwall, and Anders found himself disregarding the strange book to plot escapes instead. After one ill-fated escape, he wound up in solitary confinement, alone, with nothing—

—but the book.

He hadn’t taken the book with him, as he wasn’t allowed to, but one of the tower’s cats, Mister Wiggums, brought it to him one day, dragging it in his mouth.

For that year, the book and Mister Wiggums were his only two companions. The words in the book were still largely hazy, but the ones he made out gave him hope when he read. “I hope Anders knows that he is loved”, the words said. “All I want is for someone to love the mage,” the words said. “I want to hold him and tell him he is perfect,” the words said.

Anders smiled and read the words over and over (and carefully hid the book when any templars came by to give him food). It was all very silly, he thought, just a stupid enchanted book saying words that it thought he might like. And yet it all _felt_ real, and that was all he needed to get through that awful year.

He took the book with him the next time he escaped. In fact, it was the first thing he packed. That strange little book was very important to him now.

Life was a whirlwind for him after that escape. He ended up in Amaranthine, recruited into the Grey Wardens. He took the book with him in his pack, everywhere he went. He didn’t have much time to read it, but at least he had it with him. Every so often he would flip through it. More of the blurred words were slowly revealing themselves, and Anders decided that any words that were blurred must’ve been about things that hadn’t happened yet. Most of the newest words that had revealed themselves were salacious stories about himself and Nathaniel Howe, and he found these… very entertaining, to say the least.

The book was also terribly fond of a fade spirit friend named Justice. The book considered Anders and Justice to be great friends, and this was part of the reason that Anders befriended him to begin with and, later, the book was much of the encouragement Anders needed to merge with Justice for good before he headed to Kirkwall.

Kirkwall was far from the nicest place to live, and Anders was stressed. He still had the book, of course, but he didn’t read it much. That is, until he met someone named Hawke and their odd group of friends. He cracked open the book again not long after that, and that’s when things got truly interesting. Several, several more of the blurred words had become readable and many, many new stories appeared. Mostly about Anders doing naughty things with Hawke or _very_ naughty things with the broody elf Fenris.

He was actually in the midst of reading one of these stories— and blushing very deeply— when Merrill walked in on his clinic. “Oh! I’m sorry!” she apologized as she walked in. “Were you busy?”

“Uh, no,” said Anders, and he snapped the book closed.

Merrill glanced at the cover. “Ooh, that’s one of those magic books, isn’t it?”

That statement got Anders’ attention. “What?” he asked.

“They’re very rare,” said Merrill. “But my Keeper, Marethari, has heard of some of them. You should talk to her about it, if you have any questions.”

Anders didn’t take this suggestion particularly seriously, at first, but he kept thinking about it and the next time they went to Sundermount he had the book with him and he approached Marethari when they were alone. “Excuse me,” he said, “But Merrill suggested I talk to you about… something.”

“What is it, child?” the Keeper asked.

“I’ve uh… I’ve come into possession of a book,” he said, and he pulled it out of his satchel. “Merrill told me it was a magic book.”

Marethari nodded. “Yes, I recognize that style of cover. Books like that are very rare. I’ve only ever seen one other in my lifetime. May I see it?”

Anders idly flipped open the book and it landed on a page where the words were talking very animatedly about tying him up and shoving various items up his ass. “Um… no,” he said.

“As you wish,” said Marethari. “I will tell you what I know about this type of book. It is said that sometimes, in places and times where the Veil is thin, that stories come alive and the unreal becomes real. Things that are fictional may no longer be fictional. And people you meet in books may actually have lives of their own.”

“You mean…” Anders paused while he thought about this. “You mean it’s not just a book saying these things, but… real people, somewhere?”

“That is the legend,” said Marethari.

“But how do they know about me?” Anders asked.

“The magic goes both ways,” Marethari replied.

“What do you mean, goes both ways?”

“As the people in the book are to you, you are to them,” said Marethari.

Realization dawned. “They think I’m… a character in a story?” Anders asked.

“So to speak,” said Marethari.

“And they… care for me anyway?” asked Anders.

“Do you not care for them?” Marethari asked.

And Anders thought about it, thought back to the way that book had helped him in some of his darkest times. “I… suppose I do,” he said.

“Sometimes stories are more than stories,” said Marethari.

It was all very complicated, but Anders was starting to feel like he understood. Sort of. “Thank you,” he said.

Truthfully, all this new information just made the contents of the book even more intriguing. Not only did that mean there were people out there who cared for him, but there were people out there who found him attractive, and _that_ was a nice thought. He hadn’t felt this good about himself in a while. He even decided to put on a show by hooking up with Fenris and later hooking up with Hawke. He didn’t know if his strange audience would know, but he liked to think they would figure it out, somehow. And he’d like to think they’d like it, even if Fenris didn’t actually have a knotted werewolf dick or any of the other multitude of things the book liked to go on about.

Unfortunately, things couldn’t stay as they were. Kirkwall was a mess and Anders was mixed up in the thick of it, trying desperately to work towards his cause of mage freedom. Sometimes he’d forget about the book entirely, because he was too busy writing his manifesto until late in the night. Other times he’d flip through the pages and discover that more and more of the blurred writing was readable. Almost all of it was now, in fact, which made him suspect that he was coming to the end of his life. He hoped his mysterious friends in the book would understand if he ended up giving up that life for his cause.

Finally the day of reckoning arrived. Anders destroyed Kirkwall’s chantry, fought in a bloody battle, and later went on the run with Hawke. That night, cooped up in the hold of a ship, he had trouble sleeping. Hawke had tried to reassure him that he’d made the right choice, but Anders wasn’t so sure. A lot of innocent mages had died because of his actions.

He thought about that magical book he’d found, the book that he’d kept so close to him for so long now, and worried what it might say. How could they still like him, after all that he’d done?

Curiosity got the better of him, though, and when Hawke was asleep Anders pulled the book from his satchel and peered at the pages in the lantern light.

The familiar letters rearranged themselves into new combinations and Anders was overwhelmed by the messages of support. “Anders was right,” they said. “Blowing up the Chantry was the best thing that ever happened,” they said. “I hope Anders knows that he has never done anything wrong and that he is loved,” they said.

And that’s when Anders, suddenly overcome with feelings of affection for these people that he had never met, tugged the book close to him and fell asleep.

 

He wasn’t holding the book when he woke up.

Hawke, though, was holding it and flipping through it idly. “Hey Anders,” said Hawke. “What’s this about you having a Void Ass?”

Anders sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> http://pikestaff.tumblr.com


End file.
